Of Mice And Men
by Avarice
Summary: Hiroki felt lonely. And by 'lonely', he really meant 'horny'.


My third JR fic... I think I'm getting the hang of it! FYI, if you're interested in my second JR fic, which is conspicuously absent from (due to not complying with its terms of service... do the math, people), you might be interested in going to my JR tag on my lj... why here's a link here! .com/tag/junjou+romantica ... how did that get there...

Anyhow, the very excellent Eike betaed this for me. Thanks heaps!

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* * *

Hiroki felt lonely. And by 'lonely', he really meant 'horny'.

For the past week Nowaki had been filling in for another intern, working the graveyard shift exclusively. It left them little time to spend together, and even less in which to get intimate. If Hiroki saw him at all, it was when Nowaki was fast asleep, and no amount of overactive hormones wished to wake the exhausted-looking man.

But today was Saturday, and Saturday meant Nowaki coming home for the weekend to a very pleased-to-see-him Hiroki. After working graveyard shifts, it was vital to get his internal clock back on the correct path. Hiroki had thought up a few things to do to keep Nowaki awake for the day.

_Stay casual_, Hiroki told himself as he sat at their small kitchen table, checking his wristwatch for the fourteenth time. He'd decided to get a nice breakfast ready for both of them; Nowaki would undoubtedly be hungry when he got home. Hiroki had grilled some swordfish steaks along with steamed rice and a little miso soup.

The smell was delicious, but Hiroki refused to begin until Nowaki was home. He reviewed his mental checklist for Saturday.

1. Cook breakfast for Nowaki.  
2. Eat breakfast with Nowaki.  
3. Get Nowaki into bed and make him very, very happy.

Hiroki's eyes flicked to his wristwatch for the fifteenth time, when he heard the wonderful sound of a key turning in a lock. He stood anxiously, trying to ruffle his hair just the way Nowaki liked.

Nowaki's tall frame filled the opening to their apartment as he backed in, black sports bag on his shoulder. A small sigh escaped Nowaki's lips as he turned to put his bag down.

Before it hit the floor, Hiroki had crossed the room, pulling Nowaki into a bruising kiss.

Obviously, the order of his checklist was subject to change.

Nowaki's blue eyes widened at the unexpected assault, and he pulled back slightly. "Hiro-san--"

"I missed you," Hiroki murmured, cupping both hands behind Nowaki's head, having to get up on his tip-toes to make sure their mouths met again.

"I missed you," Nowaki replied between kisses, "but Hiro-san--"

Hiroki began unbuttoning his shirt. "I made us breakfast," he smiled, "but it can wait." He shrugged the garment off his shoulders and reached out to help Nowaki with his.

Unexpectedly, Nowaki grabbed his wrists. Hiroki blinked slowly, uncertain.

"I, uh, don't think I can... right now."

Hiroki stayed very still for a moment before he snorted, face breaking out in a nearly condescending smile. "Riiiight..." He moved his hands towards Nowaki's pants, but didn't get too far.

"I'm serious," Nowaki told him.

"Stop joking," Hiroki groused, fighting against Nowaki's grip to take hold of the taller man's shirt.

"I'm not," came the slightly peevish answer.

Hiroki couldn't help a snort of laughter. Nowaki not in the mood? Never happened. "Don't be an idiot and get out of your cloth--"

"Hiroki, please!" Nowaki exclaimed, holding him fast.

The use of his name stopped Hiroki in his tracks. He looked into Nowaki's face and saw for the first time how pale he was, and the dark circles under slightly glazed eyes.

"What's the matter?" he asked, worry creeping into his tone.

"I have a migraine and my stomach hurts," Nowaki answered miserably.

When Hiroki moved to disengage his arms from Nowaki's grip, he encountered no resistance. "Are you hungry?"

Nowaki looked a little green. "Not really. I just want to go to bed."

Hiroki thought back to his mental checklist and sighed. Not exactly what he had in mind.

It turned out that Hiroki made an excellent nurse. He got Nowaki into the bath to wash away the sweat and grime of a twelve-hour shift, trying not to pay too much attention to the nakedness lest his thoughts began drifting into unsafe territory once again.

Despite Nowaki's protests to the contrary, Hiroki got him to share two pieces of buttered toast with him and drink half a cup of green tea as well as a couple of painkillers, reveling in Nowaki's grudging admission that he did feel better with something in his stomach.

From there, he helped Nowaki into a pair of pajama pants and tucked him into bed. Hiroki was pulling the blinds shut to make the room nice and dark when Nowaki called to him in a small voice.

"Hiro-san?"

Hiroki sighed. "Yes?"

"Will you stay with me?"

"You need darkness and quiet and rest," Hiroki admonished, nevertheless walking closer to their bed.

"And my Hiro-san." Nowaki turned to lie on his back, eyes heavily-lidded. "The lamp won't hurt my eyes if you want to read." He paused, looking for all the world like a small child at that moment. "I just want you here."

Not even three seconds passed before Hiroki summarily gave in to the request. Hiroki took his trousers off, replacing them with sweat pants and slipped under the covers. With his back against the headboard, he beckoned to Nowaki, who shuffled over gratefully, placing his head in Hiroki's lap.

"Thank you," Nowaki's soft sigh made it to Hiroki's ears as he spent a few minutes very gently combing his fingers through thick, black hair. He watched for Nowaki's breathing to even out before he even considered reaching over to turn the bedside lamp on, making sure it was pointed far away from Nowaki's eyes.

He grabbed a book and his reading glasses as he reflected on the morning so far and how it had compared to his plans.

1. Cook breakfast for Nowaki.

Toast was just as much breakfast as swordfish and miso soup, albeit a lot cheaper and less trouble.

2. Eat breakfast with Nowaki.

They _had_ shared it when Nowaki couldn't finish his second slice.

3. Get Nowaki into bed and make him very, very happy.

Hiroki looked down at Nowaki's sleeping face; breathing was slow and steady, the lines of pain on his forehead had smoothed, and a small smile curled his lips in sleep. He supposed it didn't matter _how_ it happened, as long as it eventually _did_.

Running a gentle hand over Nowaki's hair once again, Hiroki went back to his book, idly forming a new checklist for when Nowaki woke up and felt better.

FIN


End file.
